Heart of the Nebula (6 page)

“
Yeah. It also explains why
the patrician went outside of the normal chain of command to brief
us—he wants to keep the Corps out of this mission as much as
possible.”

Sterling frowned. “But why would he want to
do that?”

“
I don’t know. That’s what
I want to find out.”

A chime from the loudspeakers interrupted
their conversation, followed by the tinny, feminine voice of a
recording. “Attention, passengers,” it said, “Tram approaching. For
your safety, please wait until the car comes to a complete stop
before boarding.”

“
That’s us,” said James. A
glance at the holoscreen displays over the main concourse showed
the
Freedom Star
leaving in fifteen minutes.

“
Right,” said Sterling,
hefting James’s bag under his arm. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

“
Hello, mistress,” came
Nina’s voice through the jewel in Sara’s ear. “Lieutenant McCoy and
Ensign Jones have entered the tram and will be boarding
shortly.”

Sara nodded, though of
course the AI couldn’t see her. But in the privacy of her cabin on
board the
Freedom Star
, it wasn’t as if anyone else could, either. Since they were
still in port, the outside view largely consisted of the pockmarked
hull of the next ship over: a sublight freighter of some sort by
the drab, windowless exterior. No matter. Soon enough, she’d have a
view of the stars.

With a stretch and a yawn, she rose from her
lounge chair and stepped out into the corridor, turning left
towards the airlock. She met the captain in the hallway, just
outside the main elevator.

“
Miss Galbraith-Dickson,”
said Captain Jarvis, giving her a smart nod. A stout, middle-aged
woman, the top of her head only came up to Sara’s nose. Her short,
curly red hair was pulled back from her round face, revealing a
wide brow and small eyes. Her white uniform was crisp and spotless,
the brass buttons polished smooth so that they shone in the bright
LED lights that ran along the ceiling.

“
Captain,” said Sara,
shaking her hand.

“
I take it you’ve settled
comfortably into your cabin?”

“
Yes, thank you.” Sara
glanced down at her wrist console: two hours to their scheduled
departure.

“
I’ve been apprised of the
special circumstances surrounding your mission,” said Captain
Jarvis, lowering her voice. The hallway was empty, but since they
were still in port, it was still a good idea to be
discreet.

“
Good. So you can help me
get in touch with our contacts at Gaia Nova?”

“
Certainly. They’ll be
waiting for you at the station.”

“
And what about the
lieutenant?”

The captain waved her hand. “Don’t worry.
The rest of the delegation will keep him busy enough. So long as
you’re careful about it, he won’t notice any deviation from your
schedule.”

“
Perhaps,” said Sara. She
sighed. “I wish I knew why my father insisted on sending him with
us. He’s not a part of the inner circle.”

“
I admit, it does seem a
little odd. Knowing your father—”

At that moment, the elevator door hissed
open and a young, bright-faced man stepped out. Sara recognized him
at once: Lars Stewart, head of the delegation to the conference.
Instantly, she and Captain Jarvis grew silent.

“
Oh, hi there,” he said,
giving them a disarming smile. “Don’t mind me—I heard that James
was coming along, and I thought I’d greet him at the
airlock.”

“
The lieutenant? You know
him?”

Lars grinned. “Of course I know him—he’s an
old family friend! We go back a long way, the two of us.”

Sara nodded politely. Unlike herself and the
captain, Lars wore a loose gray jumpsuit with a dark leather vest
and an empty utility belt: standard dress for the working-class
merchanters. Considering how the Colony had originally been a
corporate mining outpost before Karduna had won its independence,
his choice of clothing had something of a patriotic flair to it.
Still, Sara hoped he’d choose something more formal when they
arrived at the conference. She didn’t want the other delegates to
think that they were all Outworld hicks—even if many of them still
were.

She tried to smile, but found it difficult
to do so naturally. Her body stiffened, and she tried very hard to
think of something to say to break the awkwardness.

“
Well, that’s a surprise,”
she finally managed. “How exactly do you know each
other?”

“
Our families used to cover
the same shipping routes, and shared many of the same clients. We
spent a lot of time on each other’s ships, and we watched out for
one another when our parents were out on a haul.”

Sara nodded politely. Fortunately, the
airlock door hissed open again before she found herself at a loss
for words. Lars turned and grinned.

“
Hey, James,” he called
out. “Long time no see!”

“
Lars! It’s good to see
you!”

James dropped his bags and gave him a warm,
brotherly hug, thumping him on the back for good measure. For a
fleeting moment, the two of them looked almost like little
boys.

“
So how are politics
treating you?” James asked.

“
Not too bad, considering.
How’s the military?”

“
Civil Defense Corps, Lars.
We don’t have a formal military.”

“
Right, the Corps, then. I
understand you’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

“
Well, I haven’t been
killed yet, so I guess that’s true. Though at the rate things are
going, Commander Maxwell is probably going to have my hide as soon
as we get back.”

They laughed and slapped each other on the
back, while behind them, Sterling stepped onto the ship and closed
the airlock doors. Captain Jarvis coughed, making James notice
her.

“
Sorry, Captain,” he said,
saluting.

“
Not at all, Lieutenant.
Welcome aboard the
Freedom
Star.
” She stuck out her hand, and James
eyed it for a moment with some confusion before recognizing the
civilian gesture. They shook, a bit stiffly.

“
I trust both you and the
ensign have been briefed on our mission before coming
aboard?”

“
That’s right, though the
patrician said you’d have some more details for us.”

“
Certainly. We’ll have
plenty of time to discuss them before we arrive. In the meantime,
your quarters are ready—feel free to make yourself comfortable.
Mister Stewart, would you be so kind as to show them
down?”

“
Certainly, ma’am,” said
Lars. “Come on, James—we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

As the three of them boarded the elevator to
the lower level, completely absorbed in their own conversations,
Captain Jarvis glanced over at Sara and raised an eyebrow. Sara
didn’t need to read minds to know what she was thinking.

You’re right,
she thought to herself.
This
does
complicate things.

* * * * *

In the darkness of the cargo container,
Kyla’s ears were her only connection with the outside universe. The
groaning and clanging of distant machinery fell into a rhythm,
lulling her into a tentative sense of peace. She curled up with her
knees against her chest and fingered the wire with sweaty hands,
waiting.

With the hatchway sealed, the container was
starting to get stuffy. She thought about opening the hatch just a
crack to let in some fresh air, but until she was safely on board
the ship, it wasn’t worth risking it. If the authorities discovered
her, she’d be sent to child services for sure.

Alone in the darkness, with crates on one
side and a wall on the other, there was nothing to shield her from
her troubled thoughts and memories. An image of her mother flashed
across her mind, lying on her urine-soaked deathbed of a mattress.
She remembered the scene as clearly as if she had just been there:
the acrid smell of the electric heating coil in the corner and the
dull, faded colors of the ragged blanket that hung over the doorway
to the small alcove. A family of beggars crouched against the
opposite wall, watching her, but no one offered any help or
comfort. No one really cared.

After a long while, Kyla sniffed and
clenched her teeth together. Well, if Mother was dead now, then
Kyla might as well be dead to everyone, too. People were cold and
cruel, and she wanted to get away from them all—just get away.

As if in answer to her silent plea, the
groaning of heavy machinery sounded almost directly overhead. A
loud clang reverberated throughout the container, and the floor
shuddered beneath her. She reached for the walls with spread-out
hands, grabbing for support. The groaning returned then moved into
the distance somewhere behind her.

That’s probably the
loading crane,
Kyla thought. She remembered
all the containers stacked above the one she was in—maybe they had
started to move them onto the ship.

The groaning returned, followed by another
loud clang that shuddered through the walls. This one made her
teeth chatter and sent chills up and down her back. She steadied
herself and tried very hard to control her breathing—not much air
left, after all. Seconds turned to minutes, and her heartbeat
slowly returned to something close to normal.

How much longer?
she wondered. If only she had some way of sneaking
a peek, she could—

The groan sounded again, starting in the
distance but growing steadily closer. When it was directly
overhead, it stopped for a second, then changed pitch and grew even
louder. Something large and heavy hit the top of the container,
making the whole thing shudder even harder than before. Her heart
skipped a beat, and she held her breath as the noise turned to
deafening silence. Then, without warning, the groaning returned,
and the container lifted up, making her stomach fall out beneath
her.

All at once, everything around her started
to reel and pitch. She gasped and grabbed onto the walls for
support as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over her.
Gradually, she realized that the container must be dangling from
the crane—that was why the floor shook the way it did. The heavy
machinery groaned directly overhead as it carried her away from the
loading platform, though where it was taking her, she had no
idea.

Eventually, the groaning stopped, and the
container rocked for a few seconds until it more or less
stabilized. Kyla took a deep breath, but just as she started to
relax, the floor dropped out, making her stomach sink. She yelped
in surprise in spite of herself, then clamped a hand over her
mouth. Moments later, the container hit the next platform with a
thud that sent shocks vibrating through the lower half of her
body.

Did anyone hear me?
She gripped the release wire on the hatch and
began counting down each second. The loading crane moved off into
the distance, leaving her in relative silence. No one came,
however—no one had heard her outcry. She sighed in
relief.

The container began to move. It started off
slowly at first, but it soon picked up speed. In the darkness, Kyla
reached out to the crates to make sure they were secure.
Fortunately, they were packed so tightly that they hardly budged,
but the steady acceleration pressed her up against the hatch.

Where are we now?
A bolt of fear shot through her, and she wondered
again if she’d made a mistake. There was no turning back now,
though. All she could do was ride it out, wherever it took
her.

An uneasy flutter rose in the pit of her
stomach. At first, she dismissed it as just another hunger pang,
but the more the feeling grew, the less certain she was. She turned
her head, and a strand of hair brushed against her face in the
darkness. She lifted her hand to pull it back, and felt more than
one strand drifting up over her head.

I’m weightless,
she realized with a start. As if in confirmation,
she lifted up off the floor and bumped her head lightly on the
ceiling.

The container began to slow, sending her
drifting toward the opposite end of the narrow space. She caught
herself with her feet. Even though she knew that down was supposed
to be below her, she felt almost as if she were standing on the
wall with her chest to the ceiling. In the darkness of the
container, it thoroughly disoriented her.

Eventually, the container
came to a stop, leaving her floating in midair. With space so tight
that she had to keep her knees and elbows close, she felt herself
begin to panic. Her breath came short and fast, while her heart
began to pound.
Let me out of here!
a part of her seemed to scream. The growing
stuffiness only made it worse. She reached for the release wire,
fingering it with her sweaty hands—

No,
she told herself.
I’ve already made
it this far.
She took a long, slow breath
and forced herself to stay calm. If she was weightless, it was
probably because the container was in the station’s docking arm.
That meant that she was almost on the ship—almost, but not quite.
Just a few more minutes, and she’d be there.

Sure enough, a low groan sounded from
somewhere behind or beneath her, and once again the container began
to move. She steadied herself with her hands and held her breath.
Without warning, gravity returned, dropping her onto the wet,
smelly blanket. The reorientation was such a relief to that for
several moments, she just lay there savoring it. The container
moved a little further, then came to a rest as the heavy machinery
moved on somewhere else.